One Way Or Another
by MekQuarrie
Summary: Is Vern's day getting any better? And when you have such a small mystery so far from civilization, who would come to investigate? :: Chapter 8 of 'The Lake Peary Mystery'


**One Way Or Another**

Vernon hated his father. But this was something different. Despite constantly supervising the old man's most basic activities on a seemingly minute-to-minute basis, the ageing hunter had vanished into the snow. Vernon sat behind the wheel of the pick-up, parked at the junction, facing straight up the valley along the length of the freezing lake. Although it was late afternoon, the latitude meant it was dark as night. The moon only emphasized how little street lighting there was.

His cell-phone rang. "Hey. Who's that?" he snapped.

"Hey Vern. No news?" It was Beth.

"No. I thought you might have heard something." He looked at the junction in front of him. "I was going to drive back up to where you are at the house. See if he's stumbling down the road here in to town."

Beth sighed. She was struggling to maintain her interest in her husband's problem. "We have no idea how long he's been gone. For all I know he might have run out straight after you left for the office at lunchtime. That could be hours."

"I asked you to look in on him just after lunch," he replied carelessly. "You might have seen if you hadn't taken so long."

"Hey, Vern." She stopped his rant dead. "I said I wasn't coming. You asked again and I said I'd look in. Don't pin this on me. If he's walked out of his own house into a snow-drift it's his own decision."

"Sorry," he said. "He could be anywhere. Did you check around? What about the ice house?"

"It's the first place I looked," she sighed. "Hey, an old Eskimo gets a chill? The first place he goes is the igloo."

"Thanks for checking at least. Did you see any tracks? I don't think he would have been careful about hiding where he went."

"Seriously? What bit of 'frozen waste' don't you get yet? If you want sniffer dogs and magnifying glasses, you can call one of your detective buddies up from Labrador City to do all that leg work for you." There was a faint sound of breathe being drawn in. Beth was smoking in his father's house, not something he would normally leave unmentioned.

"That's not such a bad idea, Beth." He looked left up the track, back to the tiny township and his father's house. It was possible the old man had stumbled down this way and back into the town, possibly looking for the nearest bar, or his drinking buddies, or both. If he had left early enough, Vernon would have not have seen him. It was also possible his disoriented father, half-senile, had taken the other turn in the half-light relying on a sadly redundant instinct, and stumbled off along the hunters track. There was literally nothing along the track, no lodges or shelters, and even the pot-holes ran out after a few miles because no-one wanted to drive that way.

"Okay Vern. Much as I like to hear you staring into space, I'm going to go now. Good luck with your father. Let me know how you get on." Beth hung up without further discussion. Vernon hated it when she did that. He had wanted her to stay at the house, make a few calls. Now he would probably have to do that himself. He looked up the bleak track and decided that there would be little chance of finding any person… alive.

Having decided, he drove swiftly up the township road half-expecting to see the old man stumbling down the road toward him, but the bumpy track was clear and crisp and the only movement came from the circling birds and the shelves of snow falling randomly from spring-loaded branches. About fifteen minutes from the house, Vern spotted Beth coming the other way, clouds of snow churning up around her wheels. She was clearly in a hurry and did not stop as the two vehicles passed.

A little annoyed that his own wife had blanked him on the road, Vern continued up to the township and pulled up in front of his father's house. A few lights were still on in the building, but they did not suggest that anyone was at home. He parked carelessly in the lot and entered the single storey building, not in any particular hurry.

"Father!" He shouted randomly, sure that there would be little response. Even if the old fool had been there, he might not have replied. Vernon did a quick sweep of the house, reassuring himself of Beth's assessment. The old man was gone, but with nothing obvious to assist him out in the cold, no food or drink. He checked the boot closet and recalled that a very old but thick fur had hung there. His father had probably taken it for its ritual significance rather than its warmth, but that at least was fortunate.

The lights in the kitchen were still on and Vernon noted the two coffee mugs on the counter by the sink, possibly one used by his father, the other by his wife, each drinking hours apart. In the sink was the ash from Beth's cigarette that she had barely attempted to wash away. He went to the telephone and called the bar that his father frequented with his sometime cronies.

"Traders!" chirped a manly voice. Although he longer drank himself, Vernon still recognized the barkeep's voice.

"Solly? Hey there. It's Vern from across the way."

"Hey Vern. How are you doing these days? Come on over for a drink. We miss you."

"Thanks Solly. I'm not sure how to take that."

"Just messing with you, Vern. We can still meet. That little place at the airstrip serves awful coffee though."

"Always with the funny, Solly. Sure. Let's get an espresso some time. I just need to know if my father has been in today. Maybe he met some of those other drunks? He was talking about going up for the sunrise in a couple of days."

"No. No sign of him for weeks, Vern. I can see Atka in the corner with a couple of the others. Shall I ask them if they're planning anything?"

"Maybe later. For now I need some help to find the old man. He seems to have wandered off. Maybe into the snow by himself. It could be serious. Keep an eye out for any of the trappers who might be hanging out."

"Sure Vern. And you might be in luck too. I heard a couple of detectives flew in to town this morning."


End file.
